


The Proposition

by sarcasticchick



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 11:14:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1508471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticchick/pseuds/sarcasticchick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Think of it more as a proposition, with benefits."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Proposition

**Author's Note:**

> Just a silly little Peter/Chris ficlet, inspired by a dream last night and also practice to make sure I still know how to string two sentences together in the shape of a story.

Never let it be said that Peter is one to pass on an opportunity. 

A few years down the road, everyone is working on a peace treaty between the hunters and the supernatural. There are all sorts of squabbles - some Argents from France had shown up, there was pressure from dozens of other hunter groups and families, and not just the werewolves had shown up to represent but about every creature able to hop a bus, plane, or other mode of transportation to make the journey. Everyone was crammed into the tiny territory of Beacon Hills. Everyone demanding a chance to speak and occasionally (read: often) one side made a snide comment about someone’s lineage (or lack there of) and then someone would snap back that their grandpa’s grandma had been the one to humiliate their great-great uncle. 

And Peter and Chris are sitting alone at a table in the way, way back, Peter’s munching on popcorn and so thoroughly entertained. He elbows Chris when one of the werewolves makes a particularly nasty comment about someone’s great-grandfather’s skill with a gun. Then he hands over the popcorn and Chris who rolls his eyes but still takes the popcorn and grabs a handful cause why not. ”You should be more serious about this,” Chris said, reproachful but kind of in agreement with Peter that this was just getting _ridiculous_. 

Peter smirks and wipes his popcorn-salted hand on Chris’ jeans. ”There are so many secrets spilling out,” Peter counters, squeezing Chris’ thigh when Chris can’t do anything but jerk his leg to encourage Peter to stop using his jeans as a napkin. ”Besides, this is all moot once we tell them we’re fucking. A marriage between the families would forfeit any treaty created today.” 

Chris side-eyes Peter, deliberately ignoring Peter’s hand which Chris has now trapped between his thighs about two inches past decent. He drops the handful of kernels back in the bag. ”That’s your proposal? Over popcorn.” 

"Think of it more as a proposition, with benefits."

"Explain." 

"You could beg for my cock as loud and desperate as we both know you want, without need to keep our little secret from werewolves ears." Peter watches as twin spots high on Chris’ cheekbones redden, but the man makes no additional outward response. Peter can smell the arousal though, and he leans in just a fraction of an inch from Chris’ ear and breathes more than speaks. "And I become Hale-Argent." 

"Argent-Hale," Chris corrects immediately, flicking his free hand and a soft ‘snick’ is buried beneath the yelling about someone’s aunt’s cousin’s brother’s territory rights in Washington. Chris takes a moment to mentally tag that information to come back to later as last he knew that was unclaimed territory. He has to appreciate Peter’s thoughts about the secrets; the week has been truly enlightening.

Peter growls low and dark. ”We can negotiate,” Peter promises, mindful of the blade Chris had magicked from _somewhere_ which now threatens the fabric covering his dick. 

"So is that a yes?" Chris asks, balancing the popcorn bag on the table so he could casually resume eating a few kernels while keeping the dagger pointed at Peter’s crotch. 

Peter pauses, fairly confident he had been the one who proposed. He twists his hand trapped between Chris’ thighs and snaps it back to cup Chris’ erection pressed hard and tight against the denim. A slow grin creeps across Peter’s face as he allows his claws to catch on the fabric, tracing the outline with just a hint of threat. ”What do you say, hunter. Want to merge our families, save the day and do a ‘good deed’? I hear those make you feel all warm and fuzzy.” 

Chris arches a brow, but never turns from the proceedings up front. ”For the greater good?” 

"Or for ours," Peter clarifies. "Sex. Any time." He rolls his fingers just enough so that he can squeeze Chris’ dick without puncturing anything, but they still scratch a warning over the jeans. "Any where." 

"I think we need to formalize our arrangement before presenting," Chris amends, re-sheathing the dagger. He stands and grabs the popcorn bag, a crude but effective means of at least visually hiding his arousal. Peter could fend for himself. Mentally figuring the distance between a wolf’s hearing range and where everyone was currently collected, he pictures that nice bend in the road with the scenic overlook on Route 14. Very little traffic, perfect place to test the shocks in his SUV. But the idea of not having to hide … hell they could actually be seen in public without risk of bloodshed or decimation of public property.

Chris finds himself remarkably okay with the thought. 

Peter watches Chris walk away for a moment, then slinks away from the meeting hall and jogs to catch up. A marriage. For the greater good and all. 

And becoming an Argent. A name which holds as much _power_ as being a Hale.

And having lots of sex. 

And because he rather likes a man who challenges him. 

Peter finds himself remarkably okay with the thought.

***   
***

Coda: 

Stiles grins from where he leans against the wall, eyeing the two men leaving. ”I told you these treaty negotiations were a waste of time.” 

"You think my uncle would have agreed if he didn’t propose it?" Derek glances up from the book given to him by one of the visiting packs, disbelief clearly etched on his face. 

"Pretty sure there’s an outer circle of hell reserved for you two," Scott adds. "You seriously think this is a good solution?" 

"Yup." "Yes." 

Stiles and Derek’s voices chime together and they share a scary grin that Scott has only seen in video games by the enemy when his character is about to be obliterated. ”Okay, when this goes badly and the Hospital needs to be rebuilt again, I’m blaming you both.” 

Scott pretends he did not see the fist-bump shared between the two of them. There is the Peter-level of wrong. Peter-marrying-Chris-levels of wrong were just as bad. There’s Derek- _fist-bumping_ -levels of wrong. And then there’s Stiles-and-Derek-conquering-the-world-levels of wrong. 

There was not enough wolfsbane-laced alcohol in the world that could make this better, Scott decides.


End file.
